


A Broken Circle

by Rotpeach



Series: The Great Tumblr Rehoming of 2018 [24]
Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Asphyxiation, Cannibalism, Demon Summoning, Demons, Graphic Description of Corpses, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2019-09-22 23:30:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17069267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rotpeach/pseuds/Rotpeach
Summary: The one with demon Strade.





	A Broken Circle

**Author's Note:**

> i had a few old posts that would get dredged up from the depths now and then and suddenly have a bunch of activity. for whatever reason, this was one of them.

He kills everyone but you quickly.

(Maybe it’s meant to be a punishment. This was your idea, after all, you were the one who stood up from the bonfire when the noises started and said, “Should we go see what that was?” like an idiot, like the first person to die in a slasher flick, and your friends knew it, too, so they told you to sit your ass down and stay put. But the noises didn’t stop, the dull murmur of some vague sound in the distance growing louder until you could make out voices but not words, a monotone droning that made you all look at each other nervously as you debated who could run the fastest and who should be tripped to take one for the team.

And you’d kept pushing, kept saying, “We should either leave or we should check that out,” because you were the only ones at the campground as far as you knew. You think they only agreed to take a look to get you to shut up, tiptoeing through poison ivy and thorn bushes behind you and jumping at every animal cry they heard. When the muttering suddenly stopped, you all froze, worried you’d been spotted.

But then the screaming started.

You wish they would’ve left your dumb ass in the woods to begin with, because then at least they’d still be alive.)

The grass is still slick with their blood, leaving red streaks across your arms and clothes as you scrabble backwards, trying to stand up, trying to run, because you haven’t thought any further than that, haven’t thought about who you could possibly call for help or whether you could even outrun him.

He lets you dream, though, lets you have momentary fantasies of escape, because he prowls closer slowly rather than pouncing right away, he crawls towards you on all fours, fingers and toes tipped in claws that you’ve seen tear out the throats of a dozen people, and he holds your gaze the entire time with eyes that glint a predatory amber. Black, fleshy wings are folded against his back and a forked tail twitches impatiently behind him. He’s teasing you, playing with you like a cat toys with a bird it plans to eviscerate.

He lifts his head, inhaling the night air audibly, and lets out a deep growl. “You’re terrified,” he rumbles, voice deep, gravelly and warped. “It makes you smell nice.”

You’re afraid to look away. You know he’ll be on you if you don’t watch his every movement, so you keep shuffling back blindly, trying to tell your terrified body to cooperate or you won’t make it out of here alive.

He laughs deep in his throat and you feel your skin crawl. “You have no idea what I’m going to do to you,” he says, and when he licks his lips you see that his tongue is forked.

Your hand brushes against something soft and fleshy and you look down in shock, a gasp catching in your throat at the sight of one of your friends’ faces, eyes still wide and glassy, mouth hanging open, blood dribbling down their chin and skin slowly cooling. There’s a raw, pulpy stump at the base of their neck. You don’t know where the rest of their body is.

(They were the first to make a run for it, and that should’ve been the smart thing to do.

That’s what you all should have been doing instead of standing around looking stupid and staring at the blood-soaked grass in front of you. There had been other people at the campground, people that weren’t supposed to be there, but they were all dead or dying by the time you found them, nothing but a pile of corpses and a few people who wished they were dead, howling in pain as they clutched their ravaged stomachs and tried to keep their entrails from unraveling on the ground and choking on their own blood and warnings of some sort through slit throats.

One of them told you they were trying to talk to something, trying to ask for a favor. He told you that they didn’t know and that he was sorry, sorry, sorry. He finally succumbed to the hole punched straight through his gut and you saw beetles and centipedes already swarming the forest floor from below to feast on what was left of him, and you’d been horrified, but it turns out that he was lucky.

They were all lucky compared to you.)

You only realize you’ve looked away when you hear the beating of large wings above you, and then he’s right there, pulling you up by the neck and pinning you to a tree. Your hands fly immediately to the thick wrist pressing against your windpipe, trying to pry his fingers off, but your struggles only make him smile even wider.

“I chose you,” the demon says, the words spoken sweetly and enticingly as if to make you believe this could end well for you. “Out of all of them, it’s you I wanted to save for last. Because you’re going to be the best. I can tell just by looking at you.” He leans forward, caging your head between the bony ridges of his horns, and you freeze in fear when you feel his breath hot against your lips.

“I’m gonna break you,” he murmurs, his other clawed hand resting at the hem of your shirt and slowly tearing it in half. “Gonna slit you open and see if I can’t get inside. Gonna devour you. You’ll beg me to stop.” He pauses, sliding a claw as sharp as a knife down your side, and blood pours from the incision. “But it doesn’t stop until I say so.”

His grip on your throat lessens and a thousand pleas immediately spill from your lips, crying, “please don’t kill me pleasepleaseplase I’ll do whatever you want—!”

He laughs, louder this time, and licks your tears away. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been in this world,” he says, and even though he isn’t human you recognize arousal coloring his words, “and, more than anything, I want to have this moment with you.”

He chuckles at the confusion in your wide eyes and licks your cheek again, but you flinch when his tongue wanders a bit too high, running over your eyelashes and leaving beads of saliva behind. “Humans don’t live long,” he says. “And they use so much of what little time they have trying not to be lonely. But I’m here for you. You’ll won’t be lonely again for the rest of your life.”

You feel then, to your horror, something hot and hard pressing against your inner thigh. You shake your head, begging him to let you go and trying to squirm away from the claws reaching for you. He tears through your pants haphazardly leaving pinpricks and cuts all along your hips, and then he takes you by the throat again to hold you up higher. You take quick, panicked breaths when your feet dangle in the open air.

The demon’s tongue swirls along the inner shell of your ear and you hear him panting as his body crushes you against the tree, grinding his cock against your leg like an animal and you realize that he can’t possibly fit inside you.

“Beg me not to do this,” he growls.  

You gladly oblige, tears burning at the corners of your eyes and voice hoarse, you promise you won’t tell anyone. You say you’ll give him your body if he’ll let you keep your life, you tell him to take a limb if it means he’ll leave the rest, you’re ready to offer your firstborn if it’ll get you away from him, but your words die in your throat when he throws his head back and howls with laughter. “That was good,” he tells you, almost gently, reassuringly. “That was very good.” His lips split into a nasty grin. “But not good enough.”

You feel him nudge your legs apart with his knees and begin to scream and thrash, adrenaline surging through your body, but it doesn’t make a difference. The hand at your throat keeps hold of you like a vice, letting in just enough air to keep you conscious. Just enough that you are awake to feel him throbbing at your entrance, the thick head of his cock pushing and pushing and pushing, and you feel yourself tearing inside as he gives a harsh thrust and his hips slam into yours, burying himself to the hilt and robbing you of breath.

You feel blood trickle down between your thighs and choke on a sob.

“So _warm_ ,” he purrs. You feel what you think is his tail, thick and coiling, wrap around one of your legs and pull it further aside to give himself more room. “So _tight_.”

“I c-can’t,” you stammer, certain you’re going to be torn in half at any minute, fuller than you’ve ever been or ever wanted to be.

The demon laughs. “You can,” he assures you, and rolls his hips again.

You feel things shifting inside of you, feel an unbearable pressure in the pit of your stomach and a throbbing pain rippling out from your lower half.

“You’ve never taken anyone this deep,” he says, giving a long, slow thrust so you can feel the slide of his cock inside of you, brushing against things you didn’t know were there but are starting to burn and ache. “But you’re doing so good. You fit me perfectly. I was meant to have you.”

You want him to stop talking. You want to go home. You close your eyes and you try to go somewhere pleasant, somewhere warm and sunny without any painful things.

His next thrust is even harder, driving your bare back against the bark of the tree, and he stops, hips stilling with him buried inside you. His voice comes in a low, threatening growl.

“Look at me.”

You don’t want to. You’d rather he kill you now because you know better than to think he’ll let you go. You’d rather it end now. You’d rather he send you to your friends.

 _“Look at me,”_ he roars, and then both of his hands close around your throat and you think he might break your neck before you can even suffocate. His grip is harsh and bruising and his palms scrape against your skin. Your eyes flutter open against your will and you see again the eerie dim glow of his eyes like dying embers or distant stars, flickering and beckoning. “Were you trying to get away?” he asks. “Trying to go somewhere safe where I couldn’t reach you?”

He pulls out all the way to the tip and then slams back into you, and you writhe, pinned between him and the tree, chest burning as you run out of oxygen.

“That was a stupid thing to do.”

His grip relents for just a moment and you hungrily suck in as much as air as you can before his fingers tighten over your windpipe again. Just as you think you’ve adjusted to his size, just as you think you’ve grown accustomed to the pain, he bites down savagely on your shoulder, teeth sinking down to the bone, and tears away a chunk of your flesh.

The demon gives you just enough air to scream before he begins to choke you again. “You should thank me,” he tells you as he chews on your flesh, your blood smeared across his face. “None of the others got to experience this. Just you.” The meat of your shoulder disappears in a bulging swallow and he moans. “I knew you would taste good.”

He lets you breathe again, and you stare at him with wide, fearful eyes when he stops moving, staring at you patiently.

“Well?” he prompts. “I said you should thank me.”

You stumble over a few words. Your mind is a mess. Your body is worse. When he sinks his claws into the raw wound on your shoulder to dig out a handful of your muscle to eat, you scream the gratitude he wants to hear so desperately. He smiles and presses into you, more gently this time.

You realize that he’s making sure you last. You won’t die before he’s finished with you. _It doesn’t end until he says so._

You let your body go limp in his grasp and shiver, fresh tears spilling over your cheeks, and you wait for him to tire of you.


End file.
